leslieism

I love playing dirty, literally, I love playing in the dirt and mud.  I feel most pretty when I’m dirty…..the dirtier I am the prettier I feel.  Sounds very bizarre, yet this has always been the case for me.  Trying to psychoanalyze myself and my dirty ideals, I realize the simplicity on which they are based upon. 

After playing softball, people are focused on my cloak of filth, my bleeding leg, bruised arm and possibly my sweat cologne.  They are so preoccupied with what they physically see and perhaps smell they do not judge my face or body…at least not on a beauty basis.

I watched a documentary tonight about happiness.  A beauty queen was run over by a truck….destroying half of her beauty queen face.  The husband left her.  The woman started remembering suppressed memories, throughout her 30 some operations.  She remembered her father raping her.

Skipping ahead, this amazing woman is happier than she has ever been in her life.  She is remarried to a man that sees her true beauty.  This woman’s smile…..well, it’s contagious and it makes her glow.

Moral of the story??  It’s really just a reminder to not judge a book by it’s cover.  Also, I wonder if people understand how beautiful they become when they smile?  I wonder if people understand how ugly they become when they are mean and judgmental?

I also wonder if I will ever be able to look at myself in the mirror (when I’m clean) and not cringe.  When I’m dirty and I look in the mirror…..I get all swaggy.  Regardless of cringing or swagging…..I am a happy girl.  I am a happy girl that does not need beauty approval by anyone, especially a man.  One day I will find a man that sees my true beauty.  

Tomorrow I am going to investigate local schools for blind men.